


Raspberry Friands

by jemejem



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: (but its a letter), AFTG Valentine's Day Exchange 2020, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Magic, Andrew Minyard Has A Sweet Tooth, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Gratuitous Swearing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Teenage characters, Valentine's Day Ball, Wrong number
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22799554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemejem/pseuds/jemejem
Summary: When Neil sends a letter for Aaron Minyard, addressed as A. Minyard, he doesn't anticipate crossing paths with his reclusive twin. As Hogwarts gets ready for its annual Valentine's Ball, will they figure out what they truly want?
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 37
Kudos: 580
Collections: AFTG Exchange Valentine's Day 2020





	Raspberry Friands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raewrites98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raewrites98/gifts).



“So—“ Matt paused, cocking his head. “Let me get this straight. You want to make fun of Aaron Minyard—“ 

“The Ravenclaw seeker, yes. Don’t give him a name, it humanises him,” Neil objected. 

“By sending him an invitation to the Valentine’s ball from Katelyn Theid, his crush?” 

“To make a fool out of him when he goes to accept her invitation,” Neil grinned, arching his brow. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?” 

Matt narrowed his gaze. “You can’t possibly believe this is reasonable retribution for when he managed to wriggle under the bleachers for the snitch, just because you couldn’t.” 

“He’s only three inches shorter than me!” Neil complained. “That shouldn’t have made such a difference.” 

Matt simply looked at him for a long, long minute, before he sighed and shook his head. “Dan’s going to get an absolute load of this. Bertie’s beans, Neil. Would it kill you to let something go?” 

“I tried to forgive my father, once,” Neil cocked his head. “He tried to kill me.” 

Matt scowled. “You can’t use the tragic childhood card to win every minor disagreement!” 

Neil shrugged and grinned, leaning against his friend. “Slytherins are cunning and manipulative. You knew this when you signed up to be friends with me.” 

“There was no _sign-up,”_ Matt insisted. “You roped me into your vortex of ridiculousness and I have to stop your tiny body from being crushed into pulp by the many people that you piss off on a daily basis.”

“Potato, potahto,” said the younger wizard. 

*

_Dearest A.Minyard,_

_I would love if you accompanied me to the Valentine’s ball, which so happens to be in two weeks. I would be thrilled to spend the evening dancing with you and sharing those little raspberry friands you love. You should wear a little bit of sky blue—it’ll match my dress!_

_Love,_

_Katelyn_

*

Andrew nestled himself next to the Hufflepuff common’s fire with a thick book that Professor Dobson herself had gifted him for Yule: he had been so thoroughly swamped in aiding Higgins with his creatures over the break that he had yet to find a spare moment to enjoy it. 

Betsy—though she’d forced him to swear that he wouldn’t tell anyone they were on a first-name basis (it’s very unprofessional Andrew, she’d said, over a cup of Earl Grey in the early morning when neither of them had been able to sleep)—was an excellent divination teacher. She had correctly prophesied the uprisings of the Wesninski clan and aided James Rhenman in overthrowing the corrupt Minister of Magic, Kengo Moriyama. 

Andrew looked up to her as though she were God. Except she was real, short and plump, a woman, smiled too brightly and always knew what Andrew was thinking. Professor Walker—another professor Andrew was on first name basis with, seeing as they had been friends through school and now she had graduated and taken the vacant Charms position—would chide him for his blasphemy. 

The book itself was on the exploration of enchanted objects and how they became intertwined with fate and various prophecies in history. Andrew pushed his glasses up his nose and sunk further into the muggle beanbag—he had snuck it in through Hogsmead—to read. 

It was probably about a half hour later that someone tapped Andrew on the shoulder. That was impossible, seeing as he had crammed himself into a corner by the fireplace and there was no way someone could tap his shoulder without being stood in front of him, which was why he jumped and almost cursed out loud. The common room was bustling enough with happy-go-lucky Hufflepuffs that no one noticed little Andrew in the corner. 

A note—enchanted to dance around Andrew’s head—finally floated itself down into his hands. For a moment Andrew grimaced, recalling Nicky’s howler when he figured out Andrew stole the car to get to Hogwarts when he should’ve stayed home after his mother had crashed her muggle car with him inside it. 

It wasn’t a howler: instead, it unfolded in his hands, revealing very curly and flamboyant writing. 

“An invitation!” Robin cheered, not so far away. The girl was in the year below Andrew and he had tutored her in divination when it’d started to bring up nightmares, back in first-year. She was one of the only Hufflepuffs that Andrew talked to. Well—the only one. Andrew didn’t exactly talk to anyone at school except for Betsy, Renee, Aaron, Robin and occasionally Kevin, when he was getting on Andrew’s nerves enough for Andrew to actually stop ignoring him. “Who is it? Who is it?”

Andrew glowered when he read the letter. “It’s from Katelyn, to _A.Minyard.”_

“Aw, shame. The Valentine’s ball is invite-only.” Robin laughed a little. “Common mistake?” 

“No,” Andrew snapped. “She did it once: I hexed her quills to write _idiot_ across her forehead for a week. She hasn’t done it since.” He threw the letter up and snapped _revelio!_

The protections on the parchment wavered slightly, but didn’t break. The true owner of the letter was powerful. It was up to Andrew to find out who was targeting his brother—

—and why. 

*

Betsy, who had been peacefully asleep until a loud clamour in her classroom, hopped out of her bed and unlocked her bedroom door. She slept at the top of the divination tower, as it was much easier to control her visions and premonitions in a controlled and familiar space. With a yawn and a flick of her wand, she pulled on an extra night-robe and stepped out onto her landing, looking to her classroom down below. 

“Andrew,” Betsy smiled. Of course she’d known it would be her favourite student. Teachers weren’t to have favourites, but the eccentric young man (she couldn’t believe he would be graduating in six months and had just turned 18) had definitely wriggled himself into her good graces. Behind him was Robin, his shadow. She wasn’t exactly gifted but still splendid to teach. She was much better out on the field, one of the Hufflepuff team’s best beaters. 

“Hi,” he grumbled, sleep ruffled and rifling through her things rather than granting her eye contact.

“Someone’s sent a prank love letter to his twin!” Robin informed. “We’re trying to figure out who it was.”

“Scrying?” Betsy inquired, wafting down the stairs as she watched Andrew fill up the mirrored bowl. 

“Water reveals the worst,” Andrew shrugged, holding his palm to the surface of the water and gently moving it in an anti-clockwise direction. When it was moving sufficiently, he dropped the letter in: it sunk beneath the surface and spun with water’s current. Betsy watched, mesmerised by her student’s talent, as an image formed from the water’s ripples. 

“Oh,” Robin whispered. 

Oh, indeed, Betsy thought. Nathaniel Wesninski—though he had entered the school as Neil Josten before his true identity was discovered at the end of his third year and decided to keep the name when the trial was over—was depicted, laughing with a broad-shouldered Gryffindor student. Matthew Boyd, Betsy deduced. His girlfriend was the head of Gryffindor house. 

Andrew was making an odd face whilst looking at the 6th year. 

“You like him,” Robin teased. “You wish the letter was real!” 

“I do not like him,” Andrew lied. “I hate him. Quite a lot. Very a lot, actually.” Betsy arched an eyebrow. Andrew scowled and snatched the letter out of the scrying bowl, disturbing the water and its vision.

“Whatever you say!” Robin called out. She looked back to Betsy and smiled. “I’ll clean up and make sure he doesn’t do anything rash, Professor.” 

“Thank you,” Betsy smiled, leaving the younger girl to her responsibilities. 

*

Neil was just walking out to the middle of the pitch when he heard a small commotion. It wasn’t uncommon to have spats in the middle of the season, especially around the quidditch pitch, but the pair having a row weren’t exactly the most typical combination. 

Slytherins liked to pick fights with Gryffindors because it was easy to rile them up. Ravenclaws liked to pick fights with Gryffindors because their pride and courage often went to their heads. And Slytherins and Ravenclaws often knocked heads over methodology, and what was smartest when it came to ethics. Neil tried to stay out of the way (Matt would laugh if he said that out loud), but most of his spats ended up being with burly 7th year Slytherins who’d wanted to be captain and had been beat by a 6th year. They were also shitty people and supporters of Moriyama and his father’s bullshit, so Neil had no time for them. 

In fact, the only Slytherins Neil put up with were Renee, Allison and Kevin. And now that Allison was off to be an auror and Renee to be the new charms professor, Kevin was all he had left. Plus, he was Head Boy, so he was usually on his best behaviour. 

Till now, it seemed. 

“Andrew, you’re obstructing our practise. You’re not even on the Hufflepuff team! What are you doing here?”

“Kevin, we all know you wanted to be captain of your quidditch team but missed out because Professor Wymack turned out to be your dad and that’s most definitely a biased selection, but surprise, surprise: you’re not in charge here.” 

“But I am,” Neil piped in, jogging up to the two of them. “You’re Andrew, right? Hufflepuff? Aaron’s twin?” 

The shorter boy turned to look at him with a glare. His hair was like spun gold, Neil realised. He hadn’t really seen Aaron’s twin much, seeing as they didn’t revolve in the same circles (at all) but he assumed they’d be pretty much identical. Even within a moment of involving himself Neil knew that Andrew was completely and utterly different and definitely not Aaron. In Neil’s books, that was a good thing. 

“Yes,” Minyard said slowly. “And you’re Wesninski.” 

“It’s Josten.” Neil said, easily. On bad days that tended to rattle him, but Minyard was just picking for a row. “Kevin, do you want to fuck off for a second?” 

“I’m your Head Boy, you tiny asshole,” Kevin grumbled. When Neil just looked at him, he rolled his eyes. “Fine. But you get five minutes!” 

“I’m the captain here!” Neil insisted, watching him jog off. He sighed, shaking his head and leaning on his broom to look back at Andrew. “So, Minyard. What can I do for you?” 

Andrew’s gaze drifted up and down Neil’s form. It made Neil’s stomach wriggle, though he wasn’t quite sure why. “Why did you send a letter to Aaron, from Katelyn?” 

Neil’s jaw dropped open. “I only sent it last night! He couldn’t have figured it out that fast, could he?”

“You addressed it to A.Minyard, you bloody moron,” Andrew growled. “That’s me, too.” 

“Oh,” Neil said. “Wait—why didn’t it go alphabetically?” 

“Hufflepuff and Slytherin dorms are closer. Christ, I didn’t realised you snakes are as thickheaded as Gryffindors. Why are you targeting my brother?” 

“Because he won the last game with the snitch when I was _sure_ I had it!” Neil complained. “Tiny asshole.” 

Andrew gave him an appraising look. 

“Well, you can’t talk either,” Neil retorted. “Now—just give Aaron the letter.” 

“No can do,” Andrew said, smoothly. He held up the note: it was sopping wet. “Besides, Aaron’s going to ask Katelyn himself anyway. No need for your intervention, Josten.” 

“Dammit, I was sure that’d embarrass him,” Neil grumbled. 

“Should’ve chosen someone who definitely doesn’t like him to fake ask him out,” Andrew grumbled. “Like yourself.” 

“Gross,” Neil commented. 

“Because he’s a guy?” 

“What—no! Because it’s _Aaron.”_

“Agreed,” Andrew said. Paused. Frowned. “So you’d go out with a guy?” 

Neil gave Andrew an incredulous look. “You think I want to go to the stupid Valentine’s ball? I couldn’t give less of a shit about that cheesy nonsense. Though,” he wondered aloud. “Maybe I _should_ ask a guy to go with me. Maybe it’d stop the notes from bloody Melissa and her giggling gaggle of friends.” 

Andrew snorted. “Must be so hard, having half the school fawning over you all the time.” 

Neil arched an eyebrow. “Jealous?” 

“Hardly,” Andrew said cooly. 

Neil shrugged. “I have no interest in them. Any of them. Or any of that romantic shit, for that matter. Now, will you please get off the pitch so we can practise? Oh, and can you not interfere next time I try to get my vengeance on Aaron?” 

“No promises,” Andrew said, already leaving. Neil just shook his head. “Oh, and by the way: Aaron doesn’t like raspberry friands.” 

“Then who do I keep seeing sneaking into the kitchens!” Neil accused. Andrew just flipped him off. 

_What a strange conversation,_ he thought. And then, a little quieter: _I hope it’s not our last._

*

Kevin was just finishing in the library when Neil walked up to him, without a single book in hand. Kevin narrowed his eyes at Neil: he avoided the library when he could, claimed he was allergic to studying and almost never approached Kevin willingly. They were best friends, but still. 

Sitting opposite Kevin was his girlfriend, Thea. She looked on with keen interest as Neil came closer.

“Kevin Day,” Neil said, pulling out a bouquet of poorly kept daisies. “Will you come with me to the Valentine’s ball?”

“What the fuck?” Kevin demanded. Thea hid her face behind her hands. 

“We could wear matching robes,” Neil continued. 

  
“Neil,” he glanced from side to side, seeing other people beginning to notice the debacle that his best friend was creating. Thea was laughing herself into stitches. “ _What the fuck?”_

Neil shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it. People will stop asking me to the ball if I just ask someone, and there’s not really anyone else I’d want to hang out with for an extended period of time who hasn’t already got a date but you.” 

“Flattering,” Kevin said dryly. “But I’ve already got a date, too. Thea, remember? My girlfriend of six months? Who’s sitting right _there?_ ” He pointed at her.

“I do tend to forget you exist, Thea,” Neil admitted, looking to the Ravenclaw girl. 

“Because we hang out here, in the library,” Thea shook her head. “And you haven’t been in the library since your 5th year finals.” 

“I’m a terrible student,” Neil agreed. He looked back to Kevin, desperate. “Well, hog’s breath. Matt’s going with Dan and you’re going with Thea! Renee’s a teacher, and I hate almost everyone else at this school! There has to be someone who will go with me. Someone who _doesn’t_ want to date me,” he added. 

“What about Jean?” Kevin offered. 

Neil waved him off. “He’s going with Knox.” 

“Wait, _seriously_?” Kevin demanded. 

Thea gave him a quizzical look. “They’ve been flirting for ages, babe. Why do you think we’ve had your room free so often? Jean’s been going to Jeremy’s room in Gryffindor.” 

“How do you get in?” Neil asked, baffled. 

“I have my ways,” she winked. Neil looked at Kevin and mimed vomiting. 

Kevin rolled his eyes. “I’d say to keep your hopes up, but you’re right: there’s no one in this school who’d willingly put up with you for an extended amount of time unless they’re trying to get in your robes.” 

“Get in my robes—Kevin!” Neil said, scathingly. “Don’t be so crass.” He tossed the bouquet onto the table and brushed the leaves off his hand, readying to leave. “You’ll see. I’ll find someone. The perfect someone who wants to spend time with me, not because they think I’m cute, or whatever. As _if.”_ He snorted. It’d be sad and self-deprecating if Kevin knew that Neil genuinely had no clue about his own appearance. He’d once complained that his eyelashes were _too long._

“Go get’em, gurl,” Thea muttered as Neil spun on his heel and marched off. 

Kevin picked up the bouquet and revived the drooping daisies as he pulled his book-bag onto his shoulder. He rounded the table and gave Thea a kiss atop of her hijab. 

“I’ll see you later?” He asked, offering the bouquet. 

She took it with one of her rare smiles. “You’re the worst, Kevin Day.” Her gaze followed the corridor that Neil had vanished via. “You’d best keep an eye on him.” 

Kevin sighed, running his hands through his hair. “That’s like watching a niffler in a bank, except Neil talks and the gold coins are assholes that _will_ sock him in his smart mouth.”

Thea just laughed. 

*

“Ha!” Neil crowed, as Minyard fell from the jetty into the lake. He rushed over to the water’s edge from his hiding spot to lean over and watch as the older boy burst the surface, gasping. Neil’s face fell. “Oh, shit.”

“Josten!” Andrew scowled. “Are you shitting me? My glasses! My _wand!”_

“Accio!” Neil said with a flick of his wand. The objects came hurtling out of the lake and into Neil’s grasp, but not before they could knock Andrew over the back of his head. Neil held his sheepish smile as Andrew trudged out of the lake, muddy and covered in slimy kelp. 

“I fucking hate you,” Andrew snarled. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

“I thought it was Aaron that frequented the lake,” Neil said, completely unapologetic. He dried Andrew off with a flick of his wand, handing back his possessions. “In my defence, I didn’t see your face before I had the kelpies yank you in.” 

“We both wear the same glasses,” Andrew said flatly. “Just admit that you can’t tell us apart.” 

“Not true,” Neil objected. “The arms of Aaron’s have a tortoise shell bend, and yours are thicker along the top. Plus, even without the glasses you’d look different. You’re not the same. Aaron sucks, and you’re—“ Neil paused. 

“I’m…” Andrew prompted. 

Neil shrugged. “You don’t deserve to be pushed into lakes, that much I know.” He reached up to try and flatten Andrew’s hair. It only worked a little bit. “Hey, you know, I tried your suggestion for the Valentine’s ball.” 

“It wasn’t my suggestion,” the seventh year muttered, walking around the lake’s shores. 

“Everyone’s already got dates!” He complained, following behind Andrew’s dawdle. “Everyone who I’d tolerate going with, that is. So unfair!” 

“Not their fault you’re a leech of a sixth year who’s only latched onto seventh years in monogamous relationships.” 

“You could have at least said Transylvanian bat. Leeches are slimy and ribbed.” 

Andrew blanched. “Never, ever say that again. Also, Transylvanian bats aren’t necessarily bloodsucking.” 

Neil glowered. “That’s besides the point.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes, matching Andrew’s pace. “I just wish there wasn’t such a big focus on who’s with who and who likes who. Why can’t I dislike and distrust everyone in peace?” Andrew just rolled his eyes. 

They walked over to the Forbidden Forest side of the lake, but it was hardly dangerous in the middle of the day and in sight of the Hogwarts castle. Pine needles crunched beneath Neil’s boots. He liked these shoes, despite their warn-out status. The silver buckles and metal toecaps reminded Neil of his mother, of harsh winters in hiding and curses in hazy wooded clearings. 

“It’s nice here,” he said, breaking the quiet. 

“It was till you disturbed the peace,” Andrew grunted. 

“What were you doing before I had you pushed?”

“I’m friendly with a lot of creatures. A lot rehabilitated or recovering sea-based creatures from the greater lakes are in there. Higgins lets me check on them, every month or so.” 

“And they won’t eat you?” Neil demanded, amazed. Last he heard, Higgins’ creatures ate anything they could come across. 

Andrew snorted. “How do you think I came out of that little lagoon alive? They would’ve cleared what little mass you have from your wiry bones if it’d been you.”

“Rude,” Neil mumbled. “I can handle myself.” 

“Yes, because your adventures in asking people to the Valentine’s ball have filled me with so much confidence in your ability to coexist with other living organisms.” 

“You can’t talk!” Neil insisted. “I thought it was Aaron doing everything because you’re such a recluse and I’d never had a conversation with you before.” 

An idea struck Neil, just as they rounded the Forbidden Forest’s edge of the lake and began their journey back to the castle. He drew to a stop, holding out a hand for Andrew’s elbow and making sure to just grab his robes. 

The shorter wizard glared. “What is it, Josten?” 

“You haven’t found a date to the Valentine’s ball, have you?” 

“I hadn’t intended on going,” Andrew grunted, averting his gaze. 

“Well!” Neil brought out his wand and grew—not a rose, but a daffodil, with white framing petals—a flower from the ground, plucking it and turning to face Andrew. It was small and fragile. Neil had never been good at the natural magics. “How about you go with me?”

Andrew gave him a flat look. “You’re not serious.” 

Neil faltered slightly. “As friends?”

“We are _not_ friends,” Andrew snapped, before looking up to the sky. “Fine. _Fine._ I’ll go to the stupid ball with you.”

Neil thought he’d be more gleeful about convincing someone to go along with his plans, but all he felt was a quiet satisfaction. His heart was far too loud in his ears as he procured a safety pin from his pocket of anything and everything and carefully pinned the daffodil over Andrew’s Hogwarts crest. 

“Thank you,” he said, pulling his hands into his sleeves and curling the fabric over his knuckles. 

Andrew rolled his eyes, cheeks pinked from overexposure to the sun. “Don’t get too excited, Josten. I’m not dancing with you.” 

Neil grinned. “Next conquest: convincing you to dance with me.” When Andrew started marching off, Neil broke into a jog. “You think I won’t succeed? I will! I persevere!”   


“You’re a persevering pain in my ass, is what you are,” Andrew conceded, still marching off. 

“We should wear matching robes!” 

“I _will_ stupify you into that lake, Neil.” 

“Oh, and maybe I can serenade you with the band! I heard they’re taking sign-ups.” 

“ _Neil.”_

*

“Andrew Minyard must have done something pretty horrific to shift your focus from Aaron to him,” Dan said offhandedly, scribbling out an essay as the three of them sat at dinner. It was really just after dinner—Neil wasn’t exactly allowed to sit on the Gryffindor table _during_ dinner, lest his forest-green robes attract too many glares. Now that the younger students and many of the 6th and 7th years had departed, he’d wafted over, avoiding Kevin and Thea as they reunited to talk outfits. 

“I’m not trying to get revenge on _Andrew,_ ” Neil insisted. “Whatever are you talking about?”

Dan looked up at his close friend, who was still happily chewing on something protein related. Matt was, well, was huge. Then she looked back to Neil. “Are you kidding me? You’re sending him notes every other hour, I constantly see you tagging along behind the poor Hufflepuff in the hallway bugging the shit out of him, _and_ giving him sweets that you’ve most definitely poisoned!” 

“Well, that’s what Matt and Kevin do. I’m just taking cues from them.” Neil arched his eyebrow at Matt. “Are you poisoning the chocolates you’re bringing to Dan?”

“Of course I’m not,” Matt said, affronted. “How did we get to this point?”

“So why are you being nice to the little monster?” Dan demanded. “Antagonising Aaron—whatever. He’s mildly rational and you’ll get bored of it eventually. But Andrew is hellishly unpredictable. That’s a stupid thing to do.”

“I’m not _antagonising Andrew Minyard,”_ Neil said, exasperated. “He’s my date to the Valentine’s ball.” 

It seemed as though the bustling remnants of students and professors drew to a pause around him, but maybe Neil was just being melodramatic. One pair of students in particular froze, looking around to where Neil sat. 

“Neil,” Dan warned.

Neil looked up, only to see Aaron Minyard himself storming over to the Gryffindor table, Katelyn Theid by his side. 

“Did you just say you’re going to ask my brother to the ball?” Aaron demanded. 

Neil scoffed. “Ask? I’ve already asked, and he’s already said yes.” 

Aaron’s face screwed up, all ugly and petty. Neil was practically bouncing in his chair with glee. If only he’d known this sooner! He would have asked Andrew to the Yule ball too, just to see Aaron squirm. 

“Aaron, maybe it’s a good thing,” Katelyn said softly. “He won’t be focusing on us if he’s got Neil.” 

“You are a good for nothing, conniving, manipulative snake. A liar. I don’t want you anywhere near my brother.” Aaron pointed his wand at Neil, jabbing with every syllable. Neil just grinned.

“It’s a good thing you’re not in the same common rooms, then,” Neil winked. “Otherwise you’d be getting full frontals.” Both Matt and Dan seemed to choke, even though Dan wasn’t eating anything. Aaron went red. 

“Let’s go, babe,” Katelyn said, glaring in Neil’s direction. Aaron didn’t move till she tugged on his arm. “Come _on_ , Aaron.” 

“Bye-bye, future brother-in-law!” Neil called out as they left, waving. 

“You,” Matt breathed out. “You are the _worst._ Did you see him? He was tomato-red!” 

Neil grinned. “I’m a genius. It’s all worked out perfectly.”

“You’re mad,” Dan laughed. “You’re absolutely off your rocker, Neil Josten.” 

“I love him,” Matt said, under his breath. “I want to strangle him and adopt him.”

“No kids till we’re married,” Dan said, pointing her quill at her boyfriend before going back to her essay. Matt sulked.

Neil snorted, pulling out his d-a-d-a textbook to go over notes. 

*

“Andrew!” Robin sung, skipping up to him where he was tucked into a warm, shadowy corner of their common room. He scowled. Between Robin and Neil it seemed like he wasn’t finding any quiet, no matter where he went. “Aaron’s outside the common room, making a commotion. Something about the ball, and a _boy?”_

Andrew stiffened, slowly getting to his feet to greet his twin. Aaron almost knocked on Andrew’s head when the large oak door swung open, yanking his hand back and letting it curl into a fist at his side. 

“What the fuck, Andrew?” He asked. 

“Eloquent, right off the bat,” Andrew muttered. “So you’ve decided I’m worth talking to, now?” 

“I can’t believe you’re taking that snake Josten to the ball!” Aaron snapped. 

Andrew rose his brows. He hadn’t realised any of Neil’s attempts at irritating Aaron had actually succeeded, not when most of his time was occupied with irritating Andrew out of house and home. “Since when have you loathed Josten?”

“Since he did that ridiculously risky move last match, jumping off his broom to snatch the snitch away from me! Fucking idiot. Actually, no: he’s just a snake. _You’re_ the idiot for agreeing to go out with him!” 

  
Andrew remembered that match, since he’d actually turned up. Neil had been so fired up about losing to Aaron last game that he’d thrown himself into the air for the snitch and had Kevin catch him mid-fall when he’d caught it. Insane and gorgeous. He was just Andrew’s type. 

_Dammit,_ Andrew thought, shoving his hands into his robe’s pockets. He’d been trying to avoid thinking about it, but how could he not? The cutest guy at Hogwarts had asked him to the Valentine’s ball as a ruse to get everyone off his back, and now was spending all his time with Andrew to make it seem legitimate. Andrew didn’t appreciate the idea of being used, but…it wasn’t _bad._ He didn’t hate spending time with Josten. On the contrary, he rather looked forward to it. 

And if it pissed off Aaron, then all the fucking better. 

“He was sneering at me when I approached him after dinner,” Aaron scowled. “Slimy little prick. I can’t believe you have such poor taste. Another Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw: fine. A Gryffindor I could have put up with. Even one of the more decent Slytherins. But _Josten?”_

Andrew shrugged. “He’s cute.” 

  
Aaron made a frustrated noise. “His father was a _murderer!”_

“Somehow, I don’t think the soul-sucked asshole’s going to be able to get out of prison to reprimand me for sullying Neil’s virtue.”

“ _Gross._ It doesn’t matter that Wesninski’s a useless husk in Azkaban. His _son_ is alive and well, and _clearly_ trying to cajole you!” 

  
“Into what, exactly?” Andrew demanded. “Walks by the lake? Freshly baked brownies? Gifts snuck in from Hogsmead? He’s _not_ his father, Aaron. Just like you’re not Tilda, and I’m not—“ Drake. Samuel. Harrison. _Choose your fighter_ , he thought bitterly. “So just lay off him.” 

“I don’t like it,” Aaron insisted, losing a little bit of his bite after Andrew threw Aaron’s mother into the conversation. 

“And I don’t like Katelyn, either,” Andrew crossed his arms. “Learn to be _civil,_ Aaron. If I can, then I’m sure you can too.” 

His brother gave Andrew a once-over, found nothing to pick on, and scowled. “He called me his brother-in-law.”

Andrew stifled his snort, ignoring the strange hiccup in his chest. _The little shit is having way too much fun with this._ “You’re too easy to wind up, Aaron.” With that, he opened the common room door again. He glanced back over his shoulder only once. “Good night.” 

“Night,” his twin conceded, marching back down the corridor. 

Andrew sighed, letting the door shut behind him. 

Robin was there immediately, sticking her nose in everything she could. “Inter-house sibling relationships must be hard,” she offered. 

“Are you kidding?” Andrew muttered. “I’d rather die than be in the same house as him.”

The girl cackled, waving goodnight as she went up into the girl’s dormitories. Andrew went up into his own. 

His room was the smallest, which meant it could only fit a single bed. One single bed. He had never been okay with sharing a room with anyone, a need that Betsy had fulfilled for the entirety of his sentence at Hogwarts. He’d had the same room since first year, the windowsill littered with muggle cigarettes and his chest poorly organised but still somehow mildly clean. He settled on his bed and unloaded his books from the day to shove onto his desk, just as a knuckle rapped on his door. 

He looked up and narrowed his gaze. There was another knock, which was when Andrew realised that it wasn’t from the door, but from the window. 

He threw it open to find Neil Fucking Josten hanging from the windowsill, balancing on his broomstick in the rain. The drop was pure cliff-edge. Andrew grabbed him by his—surprisingly sturdy—biceps and hauled him into his room. 

“What the hell?” He demanded. 

“Hi,” Josten breathed, catching his breath as he hauled his broom through the window. “Oh, goodness. I can’t believe I just did that. Kevin’s going to _kill_ me.” 

“What are you doing here?” Andrew slammed the window shut. “How did you get past the charms?”

Neil shrugged. “No bad intentions, I suppose.” He grinned, flopping onto Andrew’s bed. Andrew hated his auburn curls, his sparkling blue eyes, even the scars on his cheeks. They were from the Cruciatus curse if Neil hadn’t been able to get rid of them. They had to be. 

“Get off my bed,” Andrew said flatly. 

“Yeah, in a second,” the sixth-year yawned, curling onto his side. “That was fun. I assume Aaron came and bugged you about it?” 

Andrew sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at the younger boy. “You are the worst. You know that?”

“I’d rather be hated than ignored,” Neil said easily, light enough to fool an ordinary person into thinking he wasn’t talking about his sordid childhood. Andrew wasn’t easy to fool. He also found that he agreed, somewhat. He’d given up caring what people thought of him years ago. 

“Pray tell, what horrific tale have you brought to send me off to sleep?” Andrew drawled. 

“You gotta lie down, first,” Neil grinned, pushing Andrew’s books off the bed. 

Andrew gulped inaudibly, looking at the space Neil left. He’d even curled himself to face the door, leaving the gap for Andrew to lie against the wall. There was plenty of space for the two of them, small as they were. Andrew slowly laid down, glaring at Neil once they were at eye level. 

“Can I try your glasses on?” Neil asked. 

“No.” Andrew didn’t like being visually inept, and this situation was too new and confusing to be ridded of his sight. Neil took it easily and just grinned, cushioning his cheek under his hand. “I believe you promised me a story, Josten.”

“Embellished and pretty, or harsh and ugly?” 

“What good are falsities? Tell me your worst truths.”

Neil hummed, turning onto his back to look at Andrew’s ceiling. After a little while, he said “Alright,” and Andrew let himself be lulled by the tones of Neil’s voice. At some point Neil brought out his wand to draw fractured moments and scenes he could remember, twisting a gruesome tale of pureblood families and accidental muggle mothers and jealous wives. 

At another point the candle light blew out, so Neil lit the tip of his wand to let Andrew talk. He talked about things he’d never spoken out loud before: Betsy and he had often communicated silently, with Occlumency and tea, but it was weird saying it properly. Nice, too. 

They had way more in common than Andrew thought, having both grown up in the muggle world. Music and films and novels had been their escapes from a more than frightening existence, with magic sprouting from their fingertips and no way to control it. But whilst Andrew was carted off to Hogwarts for first year, Neil’s mother kept him away till the start of his third year, when she had been killed off and he’d had nowhere else to go. 

“I think I remember you,” Andrew murmured, eyes half closed. “On the train, curled into a ball. Brown eyed, brown haired boy. Liar.” 

“I don’t remember you at all,” Neil shot back, stifling a yawn. “Shadow.”

Andrew poked Neil’s scarred cheek. “Go to bed.” 

“Next time you should come to my room,” Neil yawned again, holding his palm up over his open mouth as he arched his back. “I’ll kick Smalls out. Two beds: you won’t have to go. Like we need two beds, anyway.” He hauled himself up and grabbed his broom from where it had fallen to the floor. Straightening his robes, he re-lit Andrew’s candle and bid Andrew a soft goodnight with a mocking salute, half of his hair stuck up from Andrew’s pillow. 

Andrew laid on his back, glaring at the wooden beams that crossed his ceilings, the tips of his ears bright red and burning. He’d known that his preoccupation with Neil’s physical appearance would be something to get around. He didn’t realise that he’d have to deal with liking Neil’s personality too. 

_Fuck,_ he thought, too comfortable and too quietened to get up. He just flicked his shoes off from the end of the bed and pulled a quilt over him, falling straight to sleep. 

*

“So,” Allison demanded, leaning further into the fire. Even as a smouldering pile of embers, she was glamorous. Neil was knelt in front of the Slytherin fireplace, having received a letter from Allison that morning. She usually liked to grace him with her presence, but she was off in remote Wales, likely dealing with some criminal dealings that Neil wasn’t to know about. She was still only a year into her training phases, but aurors were apparently wildly understaffed. “Renee tells me you’ve got a date for the Valentine’s ball.” 

Neil grumbled under his breath. 

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear that apology I’m owed for not being told right out of the gate.” 

“It’s just so that people would leave me alone,” Neil hissed. “Why did you have to be two years above me? No one came near me when you were around to hiss at them. We could have gone together.”

“Are you kidding? I would’ve worked up the nerve to ask Renee if I was given another chance, not go with your scrawny ass. Speaking of scrawny,” Allison continued, smoothly sailing past the fact that she admitted to still be pining over Renee. “I heard Andrew Minyard’s the lucky guy.” 

“He’s not scrawny,” Neil mumbled, curling his fingers in the sleeves of his robes. “He’s actually very muscular.”

Allison let out a delighted laugh. “I can’t believe it! Matt and Dan weren’t joking.”

“Joking about what?”

“You _like_ him,” Allison teased, grinning wildly. “You have a _crush.”_

Neil glowered at her, starting to feel warm. “I don’t. I do not. Don’t be ridiculous.”  


“Dan said you’ve been running around, trying to irritate him into a tizzy and spending all your time messing with him,” Allison continued, relentless. “You know why boys chase after girls in the playground, pulling their pigtails and taking their things? Because that’s how they get the girl’s attention. Admit it, Josten. You like Andrew Minyard.”

“Andrew is neither a little girl, nor has pigtails.” Wouldn’t that be a sight to behold. He curled into a ball, glaring at his friend. “I asked him as a formality. A favour. I asked him as friends.” 

“Don’t change the subject, kiddo,” Neil screwed up his nose. “I need you to go to that ball, dazzle him, then kiss him senseless under the stars. No sex, though. Renee would hang me from the rafters. But if you want me to send you stuff, I can. Just don’t tell Renee I sent it. Because: no sex!” 

  
“I hate you,” Neil moaned, covering his face with his hands. He hoped no one was listening in on this conversation. “We’re barely more than acquaintances, Allison. Also, can you please remember that I’m in the middle of the common room?”

The witch simply smiled, letting him off the hook. “What are you going to wear?”

Neil narrowed his gaze. “What do you mean?”

Allison looked extremely troubled. “It’s in two days! Are you telling me you don’t have formal robes to wear?” 

“Uh…”

“Josten, I _swear._ Okay: first, I’m going to murder you. Then I’ll find you clothes and send them through. If they don’t come tomorrow morning, go up to the owlery to retrieve it so you can try it on for size. Just in case it doesn’t work. You really get my work cut out for me, don’t you?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Neil pleaded, thinking of the presumably large package that would be dropped on him tomorrow morning, come breakfast. 

“Shut your adorable face,” Allison insisted. “I’m going to make sure that the little monster won’t be able to take his beady eyes off you. Got it? Okay. Love you, bye!” 

And with that, she vanished. 

*

Andrew hadn’t seen Neil for a long while. A while was the equivalent of a few hours. Andrew hadn’t seen the sixth year since dinner the night before, which was definitely a long, _long_ while. Their conversation had been quick and stipulated anyway, so Andrew found himself a little bored, a little curious as to Neil’s whereabouts. 

Despite Neil asking Andrew to the ball, Andrew assumed the escort role: He sent Neil a time and a place to meet, dread creeping up his throat as his quill sketched across the paper, and sent it off after his last class on the day of the ball. Neil sent back a hurried drawing of a thumbs up, which also so happened to have _xoxo n_ scrawled in the corner, almost as an afterthought. 

Andrew refused to think on it and spent an hour having a good nap, another organising his room (for no reason) and the last hour before the ball getting ready. He was wearing something closer to a muggle suit, but with a cape-robe that Erik had bought him, with silvery embroidery and slits up the sides rather than sleeves. He checked himself in the mirror until he caught himself and scowled, stomping out of his room to navigate the fray. 

The common room was a mess of excitement as students readied themselves to leave. Robin, who wasn’t attending, bid Andrew goodbye at the door with a wink and a grin. 

Then it was time to find Neil. 

The young wizard was late, because of course he was. Andrew had counted up to 204 seconds when Neil barrelled up the staircase from the dungeon, escaping from the gaggles of Slytherins as they emerged from their slimy hellhole. 

Neil did not look like he’d clambered out of a slimy hellhole. In fact, Andrew realised as his stomach swooped, he looked rather incredible. His robes were a midnight blue, but lined with a silvery periwinkle that matched his eyes. He was wearing a bowtie, as dishevelled as it was, and he’d tried to fix his hair. 

“Oh,” Neil said, mustering a grin as he looked at Andrew. “You look—nice.” 

Andrew should have returned the sentiment but instead stepped forward to straighten Neil’s tie and push the hair out of his eyes. Neil let Andrew fix him up, smiling his odd little smile, and waited for Andrew to step back. 

“Here,” Neil brought out a silk square. “Allison said you should put it in your pocket, so we match properly. Do you have a pocket? I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he added, rambling. 

Andrew pressed a finger over Neil’s lips, effectively shutting him up for a few seconds. He folded up the silk fabric and tucked it into his breast pocket, where it poked out and matched the sky-blue linings that adorned Neil’s robes. 

Then he offered his arm. “Shall we face the nightmare?” 

“Hopefully it’ll be a little less nightmarish with you,” Neil said, forever sincere and confusing and gorgeous and adorable and _dammit._ “I’m ready when you are.” 

_I am so not ready,_ Andrew thought, letting Neil fall in step with him as he walked away. Neil wasn’t filled with innocuous chatter this time, instead looking to Andrew every few moments. Just _looking._ Andrew curled his fingers into the soft fabric of his robes and grunted out a weak “Staring.” 

Neil smiled but didn’t look away. “You look nice. I didn’t think you would make an effort.”

“I’m going help you make this look convincing, even if it kills me,” Andrew pointed out. 

“Right,” he coughed lightly. “Right.” Neil looked up at the tacky decorations that littered the hallways, leading up to the Great Hall. “Come on, we’re almost there.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Andrew muttered when he saw the contents of the Great Hall: the curtains had been changed to different drapes of pink and red. Glass spheres floated around the ether with little glowing hearts within them, and red, heart-shaped candles lined the tables on either side of the dance floor. It was already busy, couples prancing and dancing around gleefully. 

“You know, the Valentine’s ball was only started a few years before our first year,” Kevin said, appearing miraculously at Andrew’s side. Thea was on his arm, looking less that pleased. “I don’t understand why we need two large functions so close to one another.”

“I think the Yule Ball is far less tacky than this,” Thea agreed. 

“I’m going to find who started this and skin them alive,” Andrew grunted. 

Neil hummed. “I’d pay to see that.” 

“You guys are all so macabre!” Jeremy Knox laughed, appearing with Jean Moreau tucked against his hip. “It’s just a party, isn’t it?”

“I have a flask of firewhiskey,” Jean whispered in Kevin’s ear.

“Come on,” Neil grinned, offering his hand. Andrew let their fingers intertwine, hoping that he didn’t look at giddy as he felt as Neil lead him down the stairs. 

“Hi, Neil!” Someone called out, waving at him with pink cheeks. The girls around her all giggled, and their male counterparts glared. “Do you want to dance later?” 

Neil pointed to his and Andrew’s hands. The girl’s smile flickered slightly but she managed to sustain it, at least until Neil turned away. Then she unleashed an unholy glare onto Andrew, to which Andrew just smirked. 

“Neil!” His Gryffindor friends yelled, smothering him. “You look amazing!” Matt and Dan looked to Andrew and their conjoined hands and grinned at each other. Matt even risked holding out his hand. “Good to see you here, Minyard.” 

Andrew shook his hand reluctantly. It was an odd exchange. 

“Hey look,” one guy yelled, leaning against a table of stacked punch glasses. “Who would’ve thought that Wesninski was a faggot? And into Minyard, nonetheless.” 

“You think that he had any other options? Minyard’s the only poof around.” 

Dan whirled around, pointing her wand at the both of them. She was a head girl, which meant she could police the event as much as she liked. Both boys cowered. Gryffindors, Andrew supposed. 

“Didn’t know that was you, Wilds,” one said, crossing his arms defensively. “You got your hair all twisted and braided up.” 

“Just shut the fuck up, Jack,” Dan insisted. “Scram. I mean it! Shoo! And ten points off Gryffindor.” She looked back to Andrew and Neil, apologetic, before dragging Matt off to make sure that the two boys left them alone. 

Neil relaxed slightly once they were gone. Andrew pulled on his wrist and he gave Andrew an uneasy smile and a very unconvincing shrug in response. 

Andrew sighed. “Dance with me, Josten.” 

Neil blinked. “I didn’t think you’d want to dance.” 

“Stop asking questions.” 

On the dance floor, Andrew spotted Aaron and his Ravenclaw girl. She was a little taller than him, especially in her heels, and they were dancing very well together. The music transformed into something from the early 20th century, upbeat and jazzy. Andrew grit his teeth and cursed his intrepid competitiveness, holding onto Neil’s waist. The boy blinked. 

“Follow my lead,” he said, and spun him around. 

Aaron was looking at him and shaking his head, the hints of a smile turning up the corners of his lips. They had both been subject to Nicky and his dancing: Aaron had tried to go along with it to appease his cousin, but Andrew didn’t have to try to remember the steps. 

Neil’s laughter was bright, pearlescent as Andrew guided him around. “You’re good at this!” 

“And you are not.” 

“Well, sorry I’m not the next up-and-coming star of Strictly Come Dancing.” He barked out a laugh as Andrew leaned him backwards. “Warn me, won’t you?” 

“I’m only staying for one more song,” Andrew grunted, pulling Neil upright again. 

“Sounds good,” Neil breathed, arms laced over Andrew’s shoulders. They were very close. His scars seemed a little more red than usual, as though he were flushed. Or blushing. Andrew’s hands were on his hips as they moved around, Andrew’s footwork good enough to compensate for Neil’s clumsiness. “Oh, christ. This is _hard.”_

“You’re much better when suspended midair.” 

Neil grinned. 

The song ended, and everyone cheered. From across the crowd Aaron nodded, and Andrew nodded back. His brother laced his arm around his girlfriend’s waist and she laughed. Andrew rolled his eyes and took Neil by the wrist, dragging him away. Aaron made kissy faces to Andrew’s rude-finger, and it was like they were normal brothers. Andrew felt like there was cotton under his feet. 

“Hey,” Neil said, voice almost lost under the music. “It’s a bit loud.” 

Andrew nodded and followed Neil towards the exit. The evening had only just started to pick up, but Andrew was relieved to be out of the fray, walking the eerily quiet hallways as a love song crooned its way through the walls to haunt them. Neil seemed purposeful, so Andrew let him walk without interruption. 

When they started up the divination tower, Andrew frowned. 

“You hate divination,” Andrew said. 

“Yes, well,” Neil retorted. “Seasoned liars don’t like to be exposed.” Andrew snorted. 

They continued up the stairs, past Betsy’s classroom to the astronomy balcony. It was silent up here, the winter breeze stilled by some supernatural force. Andrew’s breath curled in their air before him, no cigarette necessary. 

“What are we doing up here, Neil?” 

Neil shrugged, walking to the stone-wall ledge. “It’s nice. And I thought you came up here all the time.” When he leaned over to look down, Andrew snatched him by the robes and yanked him back. Neil blinked, surprised. 

“Don’t do that,” he muttered. 

“Andrew,” Neil said. “Are you afraid of heights?” 

Andrew made an about face and scoffed, crossing his arms and looking down at his feet. “…No.”

“What are you up here all the time for, then?” 

He grit his teeth. “To feel.” 

Neil softened slightly. “We can go down.” 

Andrew shook his head fiercely. The boy grinned. 

“Okay. Well, close your eyes. Actually no—turn around. I know you hate surprises, so you can’t be tempted to peek.” 

“Neil,” Andrew warned. 

“Just this once?” Neil batted his eyelashes. 

Andrew sighed, looking up to the sky. The stars were nonsensical. Just once he wished that they would tell him what he wanted to know. Dutifully, he turned around, thinking that he would never be so lenient with someone who wasn’t as cute as Neil. But it was past appearances at this point. Andrew wasn’t afraid of heights: he was scared of falling. He didn’t need to come up to this tower when seeing Neil smile was enough to send his heart into overdrive. 

He heard Neil conjuring behind his shoulder but held still till Neil gave the okay. 

When he turned around, he grit his teeth. Neil had laid out a blanket and plates of goodies, fruit and sweets and butterbeer. 

“Why?” Andrew managed, watching Neil sit down on the edge of the blanket. He wasn’t used to kindness for the sake of kindness, and Neil wasn’t exactly what came to mind which Andrew thought of as a kind person. 

Neil shrugged. “I thought it might be nice. A thank you, for letting me use you. It was pretty one-sided.” 

Andrew sat down next to him, soothed by Neil’s admission. As he accepted the thermos of hot cocoa, he mumbled out an admission of his own. “It wasn’t one-sided.”

Neil looked up at him. “What?” 

Andrew just scoffed and picked up one of the little cakes. When he realised what it was, his stomach did a little flip. 

“Raspberry friands,” Neil grinned. “I figured it wasn’t Aaron I saw sneaking around. No wonder you’re in Hufflepuff: its so close to the kitchens.” 

“I hate you,” Andrew mumbled around a mouthful. It was delicious. “Where the hell did you get all this stuff?” 

Neil shrugged. “I pulled a few favours.” 

“I _hate_ you,” Andrew repeated, dusting off his hands and curling into a ball. 

“I know,” Neil said easily. 

“Do you? People who consistently hang out with those that hate them are either in denial or not quite right in the head. Which are you?” 

“Neither of us are fit to comment on our mental states,” Neil said dryly. “Andrew, I know you hate me. But we’re still friends, aren’t we?” 

“No,” Andrew said, so fiercely, so angrily, that Neil’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Andrew felt it in his chest, a pain that was so consuming that he wanted to collapse unto himself. “I don’t want to be your friend.” 

“Right,” Neil said, fingers curled into the hems of his robes, knuckles white. “Understood. Makes sense. Not many people do.” 

_No,_ Andrew thought, scrambling for something. Anything. “Neil—“ 

“No, I get it,” Neil insisted, reaching for his wand. “I’m sorry I wasted your time—“

Andrew grabbed his wrist and yanked him closer. The bruising kiss he pressed to Neil’s lips was off-centre and clumsy, too harsh and stiff. When he pulled back, Neil was still. 

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Fuck._

“Oh,” Neil whispered, his nose brushing against Andrew’s as he leaned a little closer. “ _Oh._ I had no idea—I didn’t realise—“ 

“Shut up,” Andrew growled. “Yes or no?” 

Neil took a moment to think about it, hands fiddling with the fabric between his fingertips. Andrew watched as he reached out for Andrew’s hand, and when Andrew opened his palm, intertwined their fingers together. 

“Yeah,” Neil murmured. “Yes. Okay. I get it now.” Andrew gave him an unimpressed look. “What? It was confusing because I’d never really liked someone before, so I had no idea what it was meant to feel like, or look like. I thought you hated me—“

Andrew kissed him quiet. It was better that time, their hands laced together, hearts racing as they shuffled closer to one another. Andrew’s knee knocked something over: he waved his wand to fix it up, then flicked the stupid stick aside and wove his free hand into the collar of Neil’s fancy robes. Neil wasn’t great at kissing, but he wasn’t bad, and his learning curve was surprisingly exponential for someone as idiotic as he was. 

When they parted, they stayed close, breathing the same air for a few breathless moments. Andrew couldn’t believe that it was real, that Neil was real and under his hands.   


“I should thank Aaron for bringing us together,” Neil said, because he was the worst so of _course_ he’d bring up Andrew’s twin after they’d just kissed under the moonlight. “Does he like flowers?"

“I will fucking throw you off this tower, Neil.” 

Neil grinned against Andrew’s lips. It was too irresistible not to kiss that smile away. 

So he did. 

*

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE U LIKED UR GIFT I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH UR PROMPT


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